


Who Knows Why

by Spoopyre



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-01-22 13:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoopyre/pseuds/Spoopyre
Summary: Peter should feel safe.Tony's back, Morgan adores him, Pepper is practically his mom now, and he and Harley may or may not have a thing together.So what's the problem? Beck's not here. He can't hurt him anymore than he already has. Can he?
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	1. The Southern Ones Save Us

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: In this, Beck did reveal Peter's Identity, but Pepper handled everything and he wasn't arrested. He hasn't confronted the public about it, but he still patrols. Some are afraid, some let it go. May was offered a high end job due to her efforts in the hospital during the snap, but it was all the way across the country. Peter convinced her to go. He stayed with Pepper, Morgan, Nebula, and eventually Harley in the lake house before and after Tony came back.

Despite the cold wind snapping against his face, Peter refuses to go back inside. He had had enough with the whole party thing Tony had set up, opting rather to step outside and face mother nature. Too many loud noises, bright lights. Tony had given him a look of concern when Peter looked back before opening the balcony doors, but now here he stands, arms crossed and shivering, hoping nobody will notice and care to bother him.

His prayers are obviously not answered when he hears the door creak open. The person is wearing boots, clicking harshly against the marble floor.

Harley. He only knows one person that wears boots to business banquets.

"It's awful chilly out here." Harley comments. He feels a jacket drape over his shoulders and he remembers that he chose to only wear a button up shirt mid-fall, a mistake on his part, so the warmth is welcomed. Harley wraps his arms around Peter's middle and rests his chin on his shoulder. His hands search for Harley's, a habit he has previously been trying to break, but to no avail. Warm fingers flinch at the cold ones before moving back in and clasping them tight.

"Too much noise, you know how it is." Harley hums a noise of agreement. Before he can suggest that him and Peter go back in, maybe visit the lab and tinker to distract them from all the commotion downstairs, Peter sighs deeply and leans back even more.

"Why are you out here Harley?" he asks.

The question lingers in the air for a brief moment. Way too long for either of them to feel comfortable with. Harley blows a puff of air out his nose.

"We both know you cant thermoregulate anymore." As to prove a point, Peter's body decides to give one big shiver. Harley just grips tighter.

"Besides, I think Tony was looking for you, but I figured you didn't want to go in quite yet so..."

Peter closes his eyes. He knows Harley is just trying to avoid the real reason. Even if those reasons are real, he can tell by the way their hands are clasped and Harley has his head slightly leaned against Peter's, that there's something else there.

There has been for awhile.

"Okay, but why are you really here?" Peter questions.

He almost regrets asking as the arms around him tense a bit. It's weird for it to be this quiet around the two of them. If one is silent, the other usually picks up what the other lacks in conversation. It's always so easy between them. Almost like they can read each other's minds. Except now, instead of everything flowing, moving smoothly, Peter feels as if there's a brick wall building between them. One he's reluctantly making himself.

"Obviously to make sure you don't fall off the edge" Harley jokes. His breath hits Peter's neck as he scoffs, making hairs stand on their ends. He then falls silent, probably knowing that wasn't what Peter wanted. He does that a lot, the joking. Sometimes Peter thinks it's the only way he knows how to cope.

"I'm worried about you," Harley whispers. It's so quiet that any normal person wouldn't have been able to hear it.

"I... I care about you, a lot. I've noticed how distanced you've been since Europe, and we both know Tony coming back was a lot to take in, I just-" He takes a breath, more of a sigh really, before continuing.

"I want you to know i'm here, if- if you need me," he says.

Peter closes his eyes. He doesn't say anything, not yet. He waits to feel the weight behind him disappear. To feel himself fall backwards onto the floor and hear that god awful laugh resonate in his ears again. To see nothing but pitch black, to feel so hopeless, so miserable.

He doesn't, but waits a few more seconds to make sure. After he knows Harley is still there and it's real, he opens his eyes back up, blinking at the night sky to rid them of any stray tears that had been threatening to spill over. He just told you how he feels, say something.

He opens his mouth, twists around a bit to get a better look at Harley. To tell him yes, yes I care about you too, please help me, but he's interrupted by the balcony doors opening again.

"Everything alright out here?" A voice calls from behind them.

The pair turn around and Harley lets go of one of Peter's hands so he can face the intruder fully. It's just Tony, smiling and straightening his suit jacket. He shifts between looking at each boy, raising an eyebrow.

Harley steps forward and he just knows he's going to tell Tony about what he's noticed. He throws his hand to the blond's shoulder, making him hesitate.

"All good, time for your speech already?" Peter asks. Harley looks at him in his peripheral, but he keeps looking at Tony, hoping he buys the lie. He seems to and smiles wider, something Peter hasn't seen very often on him.

"Yep, and you two better be in there or else" The 'or else' is accompanied by a wink so the boys know he isn't serious. The man spins around, the more silk like material of his suit catching the light of the lanterns on either side of the doors.

Peter watches him leave before he turns back to Harley. His hands grip the jacket still around his shoulders and pull gently.

"Well, you heard the man, we should probably get going." He hands Harley the jacket and walks towards the doors, hoping he doesn't sound too mean. His hands have barely touched the handle of the door before a hand on his sleeve stops him.

"Peter wait I-" Peter turns and settles his open hand on top of Harley's, gripping ever so slightly.

"It's okay Harls, I'm fine really" he assures. The blond lets go and opts just to give Peter a concerned look. Peter thinks, in the light, Harley looks rather ethereal. His normally unruly hair is combed but loose, curling just right around his face. The suit he's wearing accentuates his waist and biceps, something that Peter finds strangely attractive. Plus, the fact that the concern is for him makes him feel warm. He can feel a smile forming on his face, just taking the sight in.

"I'm alright, I promise" he says. Harley doesn't look like he believes him, so Peter does something he never thought he'd do. He leans in, fast enough that Harley doesn't see it coming, but slow enough that he doesn't headbutt the poor boy.

A light kiss, just on the cheek, right above where his dimples usually are. When he pulls back he attempts to convey a 'we'll talk about this later ' look, but decides to just say it instead.

"We'll talk later, yeah?" He almost thinks he's screwed up, if the look on Harley's face is anything to go by. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly wider, but his eyebrows are still pulled together in concern so he looks a bit angry.

He just nods and Peter moves to walk back into the party. Once he's in, he looks back out to the balcony to see Harley looking down at the jacket in his hands, a small smile on his still red face.

There's the dimples. He thinks with a grin.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------———

By the time Tony had finished his speech, a long, tortuous thing that involved a little more slurred words then he thought appropriate, Harley had already lost sight of Peter. 

Last he saw, the boy was standing by the stage, holding Morgan tight against his hip since Pepper was busy keeping Tony upright. He looked too handsome, the golden stage lights had highlighted his hair and cheekbones just right. Harley felt like he could melt.

Now he just has a glass of champagne in one hand and his phone in the other. Parties like this one, where business is more important than fun, aren't his forte. His gaze lingers on the rippling liquid in his glass, the light of the chandeliers reflect on the surface and he finds himself watching the glare shift back and forth. 

His cheek still tingles from where Peter kissed him. It wasn't that long, only lasted a mere few seconds, but it left his cheeks burning and a smile on his face. He hadn't been lying when he told Peter he cared. He was worried. He had noticed it, everything. 

He notices when Peter wakes up crying or screaming in the middle of the night, his room being across the hall from Harley's, and leaves to not come back. He notices that peter takes too long to shower and if you don't talk or interact with him, he'll start to stare past you, like you're not even there and he's not there, mentally at least.

However, Harley also knows he can't force Peter to talk to him. They have only known each other for about a year and the thing between them has lasted even shorter. For now, all he can do is wholly offer himself to him, emotionally and physically, and try his best to hold Peter together until he can stand on his own. It isn't his job, he knows that. Peter even sees a therapist once a week, but he feels obligated, or rather, he cares too much to not do anything to help.

His jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a squealing toddler suddenly hugging his legs.

"Harley! Up!" Morgan commands. He obeys and picks her up under her arms, making sure she settles on his hip so she won't fall. Peter isn't far behind her. He can see the boy weaving his way through the guests, getting stopped once or twice to chat. He looks beyond exasperated. Once he reaches Harley, a flushed and wide-eyed mess, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

"Morgan, you know you can't just run away like that," he huffs, leaning over and putting his hands on his knees. Morgan giggles, squirming in Harley's arms so she can see Peter better. 

"But Petey, you look funny when you chase me!" She makes grabby hands at the other boy and he takes her from him, doing the same thing Harley did, only this time Morgan lays her head down on his shoulder and yawns. Peter rocks her ever so slightly, like a mom trying to get a baby down for a nap. The look in his eyes, the pure love in them as he looks down at her, makes Harley's heart clench. 

Suddenly he's not at the party anymore, but in a house. Peter is sitting in front of him, making the same rocking motions, but with a baby. There's warm golden light filtering through the windows and hitting him just right, making his hair shine not unlike the stage lights not too long ago. He looks up at him and smiles that soft smile that makes Harley's legs weak.

"-arley?" He's broken out of his imagination by Peter's voice. When he comes to, Peter is giving him a concerned look. 

"Are you okay? You kinda zoned out for a bit." He moves closer to Harley as a bigger gentleman walks past, careful not to wake Morgan. Harley smiles at the reminder of his little mirage and looks back down at the glass in his hands. When he thinks about it his heart hurts, like a nostalgia for something that hasn't even happened, but when he meets Peter's eyes he thinks this is good too.

"Yeah... yeah i'm more than okay."

Not even thirty minutes after, the boys are both in Morgan's room, well, the one in the compound anyway, putting her to bed. Peter slides the cover up to her chin and kisses her on the forehead. Harley copies him and shuts the door on their way out.

The hallway is dark and quiet. The only lighting is the moonlight shining from the window to his left. It's calming, Harley thinks, compared to the cacophony of the party. They walk out to the common room and Peter takes a seat on the couch, pulling his knees to his chest. They had both already changed upon Morgan's insistence. 

Peter laughs and Harley gives him a confused look before looking down to where he's pointing. It's his iron man pajama pants, the same ones he wore back in sixth grade. How do they still fit him? He honestly doesn't know. He chuckles before swatting Peter's hand away.

"Alright, alright, I wouldn't get too cocky mister hello kitty." Peter blushes at that, but sticks his tongue out at him regardless. It seems as though he feels much better than before. Harley rests his elbow on the back of the couch, tucking his hand against his cheek. He returns the gesture quickly before laughing. They could be such five year olds. 

He watches as Peter grabs the remote and turns on the TV, low enough to where it won't wake Morgan, but enough where they can hear it. He then turns back to him, his big doe eyes, soft, less alert. He doesn't want to ruin it, but he wants to help him, so he reluctantly breaks the silence. 

"Does this count as later?" He tries to ask as nicely as he can. Peter immediately sits up sits up a little straighter and tucks his knees further.

This is gonna take awhile.


	2. What Doesn't Hurt You, Will Kill You Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I've been trying really hard to crank out a second chapter to this and I really hope you enjoy it! Leave a kudos and a comment of what you think of it and what you think might happen next ;) 
> 
> Also ngl this whole thing is just fluff with a slight bit of angst. I was in a fluffy mood when I wrote this. It's short, but I hope the next one will be a bit longer.

Peter Parker does not like crying in front of people. It's evident in the way he had clenched his jaw and stopped blinking instead of the snotty nose and wet cheeks. Everyone else at Tony's funeral had cried. He even saw Bucky clinging to Steve's hand like if he let go, he'd float away. He had thought it strange how easily these superheroes let themselves be vulnerable. Vulnerability was a sign of weakness. Weakness gets you or others killed. Maybe they deserved it. He didn't. He didn't deserve to cry. Beck wasn't lying when he told Peter it was all his fault.

Since then he repeats in his head that he can't be weak. Not for anybody or anything. Yeah, Tony's back, everybody is. That certainly doesn't mean they can't be taken away again. If he wants to prevent a repeat of his last failure, he has to be strong.

Which is why he's so confused as to how he let himself get this far. Harley is looking at him expectantly and he can feel that tell-tale feeling of the waterworks bubbling up like he's some sort of fountain. It frustrates him, but he knows there's no getting out of this one. Even if he did run, Harley would just find another opportunity.

So he sucks it up, a bit literally, breathing in hard so he can control his tears a bit better. He focuses on the lights from the TV shining on the glass coffee table, blues and reds dance on the wooden floor beneath it and it's quiet enough to hear the unique sound of lightsabers. He stares at the table, ringing his hands where they're wrapped around his knees and thinking of what he should say. He knows Harley will wait.

"Do you-" he pauses, "do you ever feel like... like you're trapped?"

He hears Harley breathe in slowly and it takes actual willpower to keep going. _You're annoying him_, he thinks. His therapist had said that no matter how he feels, if somebody asks him to share, he should. After all, they're asking to help, he's not putting it on them. It still feels wrong though, like he'll hurt Harley in the long run.

"Because I-I do, all the time, it's like i'm trapped in this endless cycle of happiness, then tragedy and I can't make it stop," he says. He feels a weight on his chest and he's unaware when his hands come up and span across his sternum, rubbing like there's a pain.

"I don't know who I am, or what i'm doing, it's like i'm on autopilot and nothing is real. Harley I don't even know how to tell the difference." His voice is quieter when he says the other boy's name. His lip quivers and he doesn't even realize his hands have started creating harsh red lines on his chest until Harley takes them in his own and holds them. He has to spin around, sitting criss cross now and face to face with Harley. His chest heaves. He knows he's panicking, but the realization does nothing to stop it.

Harley pulls him closer until their foreheads are touching. He can feel his breath fan across his chin. He shuts his eyes and the tears fall. _Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop_. He's still breathing fast and he only opens his eyes when he feels warmth underneath one of his hands.

"Peter." Harley says shortly. He pulls back slightly so they can look into each other's eyes. He's surprised to find Harley's eyes shining too, although unshed. He presses Peter's hand into his chest, over his heart.

"I'm real. I'm here," he declares, "I have a heartbeat, look-"

He grabs Peter's other hand and gently spreads the digits.

"You have five fingers, all real right?" he says. He looks into Peter's eyes with what he thinks is hope. He starts to wonder if maybe Harley just wants this to be over with. Maybe he's tired of helping Peter. But then he remembers, 'I... I care about you, a lot.' He takes a shuddering breath.

"Right." He sighs out. He grabs Harley's hand and intertwines their fingers and Harley lets him. The other actually leans back into Peter's space and presses his forehead to his. They sit there for a minute. Just breathing. It grounds him more than he thought it would and he notices he's no longer hyperventilating. He closes his eyes again.

"I'm here, and i'm not going anywhere." Harley whispers. He grips Peter's hands tighter as if to prove it and it makes him smile.

"I know," he says. _No you don't._

When he wakes up the next morning, he feels warm and content. Still wary, but better, like after you cry really hard. When he looks around he can tell it's early in the morning if the still slightly dark sky is anything to go by, but still later than normal since it's December. He can tell it's Harley's chest he's laying on by his heartbeat and he just closes his eyes again. He wants to stay here. 'I'm safe' he thinks, but the thought brings small tears to his eyes. He hasn't thought that in a long time. He lets it repeat in his head like a mantra until he falls back asleep. I'm safe, i'm safe, i'm safe, i'm safe...

The next time he wakes up, Morgan is sat in front of him, leaning against the couch so her static hair touches his hand where it's carelessly thrown over Harley. She's watching Scooby Doo, something she's been obsessed with since she had caught Peter watching it once.

He can smell something good, eggs, most likely for everyone's hangover being cooked in the kitchen.

It's nice. Domestic. The anxiety that has been in his head for weeks now is reduced to dull buzz and he distantly feels somebody playing with his hair. He sighs and sinks even deeper into Harley, but he starts a little when he hears a small rumble from underneath him.

He tilts his head up to meet Harley's eyes, who although still look a bit hazy from sleep, hold a softness that fits _really_ nicely into his mood. They shift so Peter is laying on his stomach in between Harley's legs and his head is cushioned on his crossed arms. They stare at each other while Harley's hand continues to run through his messed up curls.

"You okay?" Harley asks quietly. His brows furrow a bit in concern and Peter decides he likes it better when he smiles. He gives a small, closed mouth smile himself, hoping to ease the crease of worry in Harley's forehead.

"Better," is all he gives him. It seems to pacify him for now. He continues playing with Peter's hair and Peter lays his head fully down and lets him.

Yeah he doesn't feel perfect. Better, but he knows eventually that will go away. It never stays for long, but right now he's so desperate for something to keep him here, make him feel _real_. For now he does something he doesn't usually do and lets himself enjoy it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know this kinda seems like a one-shot but I promise it's gonna go somewhere :)
> 
> I don't want to make it seem like just because Harley talked him down once, that Peter is all better, because he isn't. 
> 
> He still has the anxiety and the trust issues and paranoia and everything else, but he feels safe with Harley in this chapter so it's all dulled, but not gone.


	3. Romance, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey! I'm so sorry this took so long, but I was having trouble with this one and I really didn't wanna give ya'll half-assed writing :) but here it is!
> 
> This is a cute chapter and has some more Tony & Peter interaction, so I also wanted to take time and make sure it flowed (sorry if anybody is ooc).
> 
> Hopefully the next one won't take so long <3

Breakfast had been comfortably quiet that morning. Pepper had made eggs and Tony had stumbled in half asleep, planted a kiss on her cheek, and promptly sat down to watch the coffee maker work it’s magic. Morgan somehow climbed up on the stool next to him, hair flying everywhere and her face was morphed into an eerily similar face to Tony’s, although the only thing she had been drinking was the orange juice in the sippy cup gripped in her small hands. When Pepper slides Tony the coffee, Peter finds it amusing to see them both take a big drink at the same time. 

As for Peter himself, he’s sitting on the couch a little ways away, carefully balancing his plate of eggs on his lap. His meltdown the night before had apparently given him an appetite, well, more of an appetite than a growing super-human boy already had. As he piles them in, he watches Harley carefully cut his up, his eyes watch the tv screen and he nearly misses his mouth when he lifts his fork. The poking in his cheek knocks him out of whatever trance he was in and Peter snickers when Harley looks at his fork in offense. His eyes lift up to Peter and it makes him laugh harder. 

“Oh, you think this is funny do you?” He asks. His smile turns into a smirk as he puts his eggs on the coffee table and starts to crawl towards Peter. He gets close, even going as far as to set Peter’s plate aside. He moves to face the dirty blond. Harley’s hands dip the couch on either side of him and he leans in close enough for Peter to watch as his tongue darts across his lips. His face is totally red by now and he’s pretty sure Harley can feel the heat coming from his face.

“Harley, what-” he starts, but before he can finish Harley’s hands lift up in a flash and start scattering up and down his sides. A startled yelp turns into full blown laughter and he playfully slaps Harley on his shoulder. He can’t breathe, but he’s still focused on the bright smile on Harley’s face as he viciously tickles him. He can vaguely hear a stool being scooted back and heavy footfalls walking towards them, _ Tony,  _ he thinks, but Harley’s assault leaves him unable to see him. Tears gather in the corners of his eyes and they’re falling down his temples by the time the other relents, sitting back up with a laugh of his own. 

His chest heaves while he wipes his eyes and he looks up when a hand ruffles his hair. Tony just chuckles and keeps walking, picking up both of their plates. 

“We’ll have to head back home soon, make sure you’re both packed before two” he says. Harley salutes and Peter beams at him. Having enough breath back to speak, he jumps up with a ‘yes, sir’ and stretches a bit. He sees Pepper and Morgan are already gone, most likely to save the time that Morgan spends deciding exactly which character she wants on her shirt today. He’s dealt with that before and it had been overwhelming to say the least. By the end of it, Morgan had been ready to go, but her and Peter were on opposite sides of the room with their arms crossed. 

He begins to walk past Harley, eager to leave and get back to his own room at the lakehouse, but the other stops him with a hand on his wrist. He turns to look at him and raises an eyebrow as if to ask what he wanted. A faint blush appears on his face, but he keeps steady eye contact with Peter. 

“You okay?’ he asks softly. His genuine concern makes Peter stumble again even though he had seen plenty of it the night before. The thing they’ve had going, it was just like this. Normal, then it’d be a touch of fingers when they walk past or Harley either straight up asking if he’s okay or asking in more roundabout ways. He knows he wakes Harley up sometimes, the lakehouse isn’t huge, and it’s quiet enough that you can hear people’s footsteps without super hearing. Harley won’t mention it though. Instead he’ll make sure to get Peter out of bed the next morning, distract him with lab time or one of his favorite movies. They’ll share a smile sometimes, a silent ‘thank you’ from Peter for being his rock. 

Truthfully? That’s what the other boy has become, his rock. Tony had always been there, watching over him, but the dream that he’d stay that way had vanished the minute he’d snapped and let Peter believe he was gone. It was Harley who befriended him at the funeral, it was  _ Harley  _ who had his back in Europe when he thought nobody else did and it’s Harley who he has slowly begun to fall in love with. 

Love? Is that what this is? The thought hits him suddenly and hard, gripping his heart in a vice grip. It terrifies him. The thought comes to him, ‘ _ everyone i’ve loved has been hurt’  _ and even though a small part of him knows that isn’t a hundred percent true, it makes him tear up regardless. He can’t lose Harley, he  _ can’t. _ He probably wouldn’t survive if he did. Icarus didn’t have a rock to keep him grounded, and look what happened to him. 

Warm fingers lightly squeezing his wrist brings him out of his thoughts. He looks back up and into Harley’s eyes. Eyes framed by ridiculously long lashes. His pupils are larger than normal and Peter thinks back to the article he read about how when you look at something you love, your pupils expand and now he can’t stop thinking ‘does Harley love him too?’ and _shit, he’s in trouble. _

“Peter?” Harley calls. Peter blinks and a smile is now on his face 

“I-yeah, yeah sorry i’m fine, just thinking,” he says. He shakes his head a bit and before he can think about it, he turns his hand to grip Harley’s and squeezes. Before Harley can respond, Peter turns and heads towards his room, hoping the other doesn’t see the stupid silly smile on his face.  _ Jesus Parker, you’re in deep.  _

_ \------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

  
  


Shortly after he’s packed the small amount of stuff he’d brought to the compound, Tony lets him know that Harley took the liberty of suffering the ride with Morgan. If Peter didn’t love Morgan as much as he did, he’d sigh in relief that he didn’t have to sit through another hour-long sing along to Moana. 

Peter will be riding with Tony. They had to take two cars so Tony could bring some stuff for Bruce, which meant the boys took turns riding either with Tony in the ‘cool car’ or with Pepper in the family car. Not that the family car isn’t nice, but it gets old after you’ve seen every Disney movie in the history of ever. 

They all get settled - which takes about thirty minutes longer than it’s supposed to because Morgan forgot her bear - and head off. Peter immediately goes for the Bluetooth which makes Tony laugh. It’s nice to see him do it, watching his eyes crinkle in the corners. It brings a smile to Peter’s face every time without fail.

“Not up for talking, huh?” he teases. Peter just shrugs and gives him a smile, turning to look out the window. What happened between him and Harley this morning hadn’t left his mind at all and he was  _ so  _ close to just turning to Tony and telling him his romantic revelation. It had just been bubbling underneath his skin. So much so that he had sat on his bed, holding his pile of folded shirts for almost a full five minutes before he realized he was supposed to be packing. 

It’s a little bit before they speak again. Every now and then Peter will look over and watch as Tony bobs his head to whatever generic pop song plays from Peter’s playlist. He sings along to some, but only the ones he’s heard on the radio. By the time they stop for gas, Peter’s almost nodding off. It takes effort to open his eyes and he snorts at the sight of Morgan doing her ‘potty dance’ on the way inside. 

Harley gets out and stretches. He lifts his arms above his head and Peter just watches through his window as his shirt rides up to reveal his slightly toned stomach.  _ Yeah, you’ve got it bad… _

Before long, Morgan is satisfied and Harley had gotten him and Peter some snacks after a session of puppy dog eyes. They all get back in the cars and start their way home again. 

As he watches the trees go by, his mind keeps flashing back to this morning and the night before. He goes over all the times he’s laughed with Harley or had those quick, intimate moments few and far in between. It’s a wonder he didn’t realize his feelings before now, MJ always did say he was a bit dense. 

“What’s bouncing around in that big head of yours, huh?” Tony speaks up. It startles Peter enough that his elbow falls off the door where it had been resting and his forehead smacks against the window. He can hear Tony’s snickers while he rubs the now sore spot.

“Ow… don’t do that” He whines, glaring at the older man. He just sticks his tongue out and Peter returns it, even though Tony’s eyes are fixated on the road. 

“No, but seriously, what’s got you so deep in thought?” Tony asks. He has every right to be curious, but suddenly Peter is left wondering if this is really the right time. Tony had become easier and easier to talk to since he came back, but it’s still awkward when one of the two boys living under your roof has a crush on the other. It’s not even that Tony would judge him for it, he’s always been vocal about acceptance and equality, but it’s that fear of ruining the  _ now _ that makes Peter hesitate. 

“How-,” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “-how did you know you were in love with Pepper?”

Tony’s eyebrows shoot up, like Peter had just asked for a million dollar rocket for his birthday, and the corners of his mouth start to tilt up like he’s amused. It’s a familiar look, one he uses often when Peter asks out of the blue questions.

“Well, I almost lost her...and when I thought about my life without her, I hated what I saw. She made everything complete. Made me whole again.” He says, wistfully. 

“Why are you asking?” He questions after a pause. His voice sounds knowing, like he understands exactly why Peter is asking but he wants him to tell him first. It’s nerve-wracking, but with one more deep breath, he spits it out. 

“I think I like Harley…” he whispers. He squeezes his eyes shut and just resigns himself to the reaction. The next second Tony lets out a ‘ha!’ and throws his hands in the air, immediately making Peter panic and grab the steering wheel to hold it steady. He makes it worse when he yells happily.

“Finally!” he laughs. Peter just looks at him in bewilderment when he can finally let go of the steering wheel. Tony is still laughing, wiping tears off his cheeks. 

“What do you mean finally?!” Peter exclaims. There were only two ways he imagined his reveal going, and Tony being happy, no,  _ excited  _ about it wasn’t one of them. Tony just gives him a ‘really?” look before looking back at the road. 

“Peter, I've been watching you two dance around each other since I came back, there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed.” he says. He reaches across the console and lightly punches Peter’s arm. He just rolls his eyes at the old man’s antics. 

“I don’t even know how to tell him,” Peter admits. It didn’t occur to him until now that he probably  _ should  _ tell Harley, or else he would end up making everything weird. Unease settles in his stomach and before he knows it, he’s thinking about it too much and the thought of ‘ _ what if he doesn’t like me back?’  _ pops up, but Tony speaks up before he can give himself an answer. 

“My only advice kid? Tell him sooner rather than later. You’ll regret it if you don’t,” he says. Peter doesn’t say anything, just nods, but he lets the words settle in before he leans his head back in defeat, ready to use the rest of the trip home to think of how in the world he’s going to do this. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you thought! Any comments, ideas, etc... are welcome!


End file.
